Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT SOPHIE FORGOT
“I wasn't there.”
Sophie's voice shook.
She looked from her mother to Adrian.
“I was working at the restaurant.”
Evelyn opened her eyes.
“Not the whole evening.”
Sophie stared.
“What are you talking about?”
“You came to get me.”
Sophie shook her head.
“No.”
Evelyn looked toward Leo.
The little boy was watching Sophie with an expression she couldn't understand.
“You were twenty-two,” Evelyn continued. “You'd finished your shift early. You came because I wasn't answering my phone.”
Sophie tried to remember.
Two years ago.
A rainy November night.
Her mother had been working late.
Sophie remembered taking the subway home.
Then something else.
A taxi.
A wet road.
A bright pair of headlights.
She pressed her fingers against her forehead.
“I remember a crash.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Your taxi was struck near the scene.”
Adrian stared.
“What?”
Evelyn explained that Sophie had been traveling along the same road where Isabella's car crashed.
When the taxi driver swerved to avoid another vehicle, the taxi struck a guardrail.
Sophie suffered a concussion.
She spent two nights in the hospital.
Her memory of that evening had always been incomplete.
She'd accepted the doctors' explanation that the injury had caused gaps.
But she had never known the accident involved the Moretti family.
“Why didn't you tell me?” she asked.
Evelyn looked devastated.
“Because you kept asking about a little boy. You were frightened, and the doctors told me not to pressure you to remember.”
Sophie looked down at Leo.
“You saw me?”
The boy nodded.
“How?”
Leo tapped the drawing.
Then he pointed toward the little girl.
Sophie realized he'd drawn her standing beside a car.
And then she remembered something.
A child crying in the rain.
A small boy hiding behind a tree.
A woman shouting.
She gasped.
“I got out of the taxi.”
Evelyn nodded.
“You did.”
“I heard someone crying.”
“Yes.”
Sophie closed her eyes.
The memory came in pieces.
Wet leaves.
Cold air.
The smell of gasoline.
A little boy curled beneath a fallen branch.
And a woman in a gray coat approaching from the road.
Sophie opened her eyes.
“That was you.”
Evelyn nodded.
“I found you both.”
“But the man?”
Evelyn swallowed.
“He was already gone.”
Adrian knelt beside Sophie.
“What do you remember about him?”
She shook her head.
“Only his scarf.”
“Red?”
“Yes.”
“And his face?”
Sophie squeezed her eyes shut.
Nothing.
Then she remembered a voice.
A man's voice.
Angry.
“Get away from the boy.”
She opened her eyes.
“Someone told me to leave Leo alone.”
Adrian's expression darkened.
“Did he hurt you?”
“I don't remember.”
Evelyn reached for her daughter's hand.
“You had bruises on your arms. The taxi driver said a man shoved you away from the trees.”
Sophie felt tears gathering.
“All this time, I thought I just got hurt in a taxi accident.”
Her mother nodded sadly.
“You were trying to help Leo.”
The little boy climbed onto Sophie's lap.
He rested his head against her chest.
And Sophie understood why he'd trusted her so quickly at the restaurant.
Somewhere in his frightened memory, he recognized her.
Not as a waitress.
As the young woman who had come toward him in the rain.
The room remained quiet for several minutes.
Then Adrian stood.
“We have enough to reopen the investigation.”
Sophie looked up.
“Do we?”
“We have evidence of financial crimes, hidden records, a witness account, and a child who remembers details that were never properly investigated.”
Evelyn nodded.
“But Salvatore has powerful friends.”
“So do I,” Adrian said.
Sophie looked sharply at him.
“Adrian.”
He understood immediately.
“No threats. No revenge.”
He glanced at Leo.
“We're doing this the right way.”
That afternoon, Adrian contacted an attorney outside the family's usual legal team.
He also arranged for an independent forensic accountant to review the foundation's records.
Matteo arrived carrying a leather briefcase.
For the first time in years, he looked frightened of his older brother.
Adrian met him in the study.
Sophie stayed with Leo in the adjoining sitting room.
But the door remained open.
“Tell me everything,” Adrian said.
Matteo placed the briefcase on the desk.
Inside were accounting records, signed instructions, and a small black notebook.
“Salvatore started using the foundation's accounts six years ago,” Matteo explained. “At first, he said the transfers were temporary.”
“Why did you help him?”
Matteo stared at the floor.
“Because I owed him money.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“How much?”
“Enough that he could have destroyed me.”
“Gambling?”
Matteo nodded.
Adrian looked away.
He'd warned his brother years earlier.
Matteo had insisted everything was under control.
“I thought I could repay him,” Matteo continued. “Then he started making me sign approvals for companies I'd never heard of.”
“And when Isabella discovered it?”
“She confronted me.”
“Did you tell her the truth?”
“Some of it.”
“Why not all?”
“Because Salvatore said he'd expose my debts and tell you I'd stolen from the foundation.”
Adrian stared.
“You did help steal from it.”
Matteo nodded.
“I know.”
The admission was quiet.
And for once, he didn't excuse himself.
“I was a coward.”
Adrian studied him.
“Did you know Isabella was in danger?”
Matteo's eyes filled.
“I knew Salvatore was angry. I didn't know he'd hurt her.”
Adrian looked at the records.
“Can you prove he authorized the transfers?”
“Yes.”
Matteo opened the black notebook.
He showed Adrian handwritten entries, dates, and initials.
Several matched the foundation's payment records.
But one entry stood out.
It was dated the night Isabella died.
Beside it were four words.
Road diversion. Driver replacement approved.
Adrian felt his stomach tighten.
“Driver replacement?”
Matteo nodded slowly.
“That was the part I couldn't explain.”
Adrian remembered Isabella's driver.
Thomas Hale.
A quiet man who had worked for the family for years.
He'd been killed in the same accident.
At least, that was what Adrian had been told.
“Who approved the replacement?” Adrian asked.
Matteo turned the notebook toward him.
Beside the entry was a signature.
Not Salvatore's.
Not Matteo's.
Adrian recognized the handwriting instantly.
Daniel Russo.
His oldest friend had signed the instruction.
Adrian stood.
But before he could speak, Sophie appeared in the doorway.
“Adrian.”
Something in her voice made him turn.
She was holding Leo's drawing.
The boy had added a new detail.
A tiny black rectangle on the wrist of the man in the red scarf.
A watch.
But not an ordinary watch.
Adrian recognized its unusual square face.
Daniel Russo had worn one exactly like it for fifteen years.
And suddenly, the truth became far more frightening.
May you like
There hadn't been one man in the woods.
There had been two.
